


My Love and My Light, My Sweetest Miracle

by FudgingPastry



Series: That God AU [6]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Disabled Character, Multi, Non-binary character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 09:11:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3375959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FudgingPastry/pseuds/FudgingPastry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Midwinter Festival has begun in the village. Tavros is followed around by little goats while Karkat convinces Equius to come out and have something to eat with him. What they don't realize is that the god of death and life has come to join in the celebration and bless those they see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Love and My Light, My Sweetest Miracle

Gamzee lifted their head to the moon, smiling happily at it. They knew what time of year it was. They stand, brushing the snow off their cloak, pausing to stare at their hands. As the land healed, they began to heal too. The hole in their chest had stopped dripping and it seemed to be closing, if only by a little. They wrapped their cloak tightly around them as they walked, following the path up to the cliff. They looked up at it, a quiet memory pulling at them. The boy who Serket pushed, the boy who fell into their land. The boy who they brought back to his village and the boy who they watched over. He had grown up with crooked legs, always leaning against that crook of his. Gamzee watched over him and his herd.

The boy, Tavros as he was called, was the first to begin to heal the land. Well, not literally at least. He couldn’t do what they could do, but what he did instead was all kinds of magical. They had almost lost all hope of ever healing their land. Their power was dying and fading and even though the cobbler still prayed to them and left them gifts at their shrine, one person could only do so much. But one day they felt Tavros’ presence nearby the edge of the cliff. They went up so they could watch the mortal. They found Tavros drawing in the dirt, smiling this soft smile. Gamzee waited until he left before they came out. When they finally came out, they found the drawings.

Gamzee remembered that day. They remembered how the drawings looked like them, back before they turned into that beast. Back when Tavros had fallen into their land. Gamzee remembered the rush of joy and happiness and warmth settle in their chest. They touched the ground between the drawings and was just about to turn away when they felt a jolt. They turned back to the drawings and there was the tiniest, but the greenest sprout they had seen in centuries. With a joyous keen, they hovered around the sprout, their grin wide as it opened and closed in shock. Claws touched the sprout gently and carefully, afraid it’d wither and die if they got too close.

A soft hiss brought them back from the sprout and they pulled away from the sprout, trying feverishly to keep the poisonous tar from dripping on the plant. They smiled as they backed away, keening and wailing in a happiness they hadn’t felt in centuries. Now, Gamzee pulled themself up to the top of the climb, bracing their hold on the willow tree that grew at the edge. They patted the trunk, smiling happily. They heard drumbeats in the distance and they swayed to the growing music. The Midwinter Festival began tonight. It would last all night and when the first rays appeared of the next morning, the celebration would conclude with music and dancing and chanting that could be heard all the way to the sea. Most people had forgotten the origin of the festival, but the god had not forgotten. After all, it was their festival.

As Gamzee entered the village, they grabbed a mask and hid the rest of their features from the prying eyes of the mortals. The mask covered the upper part of their face and Gamzee noticed a young woman was offering to paint the festival goers faces. They sat down next to the woman and asked for a paint that would match the mask. The woman laughed, asking them if they were hoping to get in good graces for the year. They tilted their head, a little confused, but the woman pointed at the mask.

“Don’t you know? This festival used to be dedicated to the old god of life and death. People used to say that their favorite animals were goats. I thought it was funny how you picked a goat mask for the festival.” Gamzee looked down at the mask and laughed. Well wasn’t that some kind of miracle? The woman painted their face black with a wide grin painted just under the mask. “Maybe the god will find you funny and bless you tonight!”

They spend half the night walking around and listening to the music. Whoever was singing had a beautiful voice. It reminded them of the wind during the autumn season. Full of leaves and color and beautiful in the beginning. The song was a promise to return from the death the winter brought. Gamzee closed their eyes, breathing the unintended worship in. They wriggled their fingers, feeling alive and bright. They stepped to the side and a vine grew out across the ground, wrapping and opening its leaves to the fires that warmed the area.

They left the musician to sing his promises to the night sky and started off toward another temporary stage. There were poets here. They sat down and closed their eyes. A few minutes into the readings, they felt something nudge their hand. Opening their eyes, Gamzee found one of their wicker goats headbutting into their hand. Gamzee grabbed the goat and pulled it close to them, whispering quiet hellos and old words no one understood anymore.

“Uh, sorry about that. I was sure I was, watching all of them, but I guess I lost, track of this one.” Gamzee lifted their head to see Tavros standing near them, staring at the wicker goat. They released the goat, but it headbutted into their chest. They laughed, petting the goat.

“He must all up and think I’m its father. Odd little miracle.”

“Yeah, uh, I’m, sorry if he caused you any trouble, sir, or… uhm…?”

“Spirit magic, huh? Or you’re all up in the good graces with the gods to have something like this following you around. Nah, the little brother didn’t up and trouble me. Glad to see them again, I suppose.” They whispered the last line to the goat. Tavros leaned forward and asked them to repeat what they said. They stood and nudged the goat back to the shepherd. “Have a good evening, brother. Enjoy the festival.” Gamzee left, the goat trotting after them and Tavros watched on with a feeling that he should know them.

Karkat rested his elbows against the counter, watching the blacksmith’s back as he worked. Equius was working on a sculpture to take to the shrine on the last night of the festival. It was going to be a goat that would eventually be painted over with bright colors. He had just started on the sculpture and he expected to be finished with it by the end of the festival.

“So when are you gonna get off that seat and go get some food with me.”

“Can’t you see that I am busy Vantas? If you are hungry, feel free to get some food yourself. There is a festival going on.”

“Yes, you bring up a perfect point. There is a festival going on and you’re missing it, you lump of skin and sweat.” Equius sighed and set the sculpture aside, turning to the cobbler. “Huh, I actually got you to face me. That’s a first.”

“You didn’t ‘get’ me to do anything. I turned because of my own free will. But now that you have my attention, what is it that you want.” Karkat bit his lip, holding back a biting remark. Equius grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat off him.

“What I want to do,” Karkat phrased his words carefully. “Is for us to go and get some food. At least get you something to drink. All that sweating and no water cannot be good for you.”

“Fine, if it will get you to leave me alone afterwards, I will come and get food with you.” Karkat walked off, a bounce to his step as Equius followed begrudgingly. They stopped by Ms. Paint’s booth and the two looked over the pies. Finally, they settled on two slices of cherry pie. As Karkat ate his, he noticed a tall person meandering around through the crowd. The person wore a goat mask and a wide grin was painted over the visible part of their face. The person turned toward him and Equius and Karkat blinked, squinting closer at the person. The person lifted the mask and a finger to their lips, grinning wider than the paint did.

Karkat froze when he recognized the god, his breath short and almost fearful. The god’s grin softened and they made a beeline straight to them. When Equius noticed the person, he started to hide Karkat behind him, but Karkat stopped him. When the god finally reached them, they stopped and stared at Karkat, their head tilting to the side. Karkat smiled in return and lifted a shaky hand in a wave. Gamzee took a hold of his hand and pressed it to their cheek, leaning into it. He blushed and swallowed his nerves as the god kissed his hand. Karkat all but forgot Equius behind him as Gamzee kissed up his arm as if they were worshipping him. He felt all sorts of blessed and he relaxed a little in their presence. Gamzee gently butted his head into his follower’s, who headbutted him back after a moment’s hesitation. Gamzee brushed back his hair and, using some paint from a small container in their cloak, they drew their sign on his forehead, bending down to kiss it once it was dry.

“For the one who all up and kept me motherfucking sane when no one else would try. For the one who never left. For the one who came in rain and snow and fire and wind. Dark and light both, cloud and clear, cold and warm. For the one who never forgot. The one who was afraid, but wouldn’t motherfucking fear. For my best beloved, I bless you. May your path be ever clear of thorns.” The god straightened and disappeared back into the crowd, their mask pulled down and covering their face.

Karkat watched them go, full of wonder and a warm feeling, like the spring sun on his face. Then his knees buckled and Equius dropped to catch him. He patted Equius’ face, still in a sort of trance where he felt all warm and cuddly, even though the weather felt like it was dropping as the night continued.

“Who was that?” Equius’ strong, angered voice brought Karkat out of his trance. He looked up from where he sat against the blacksmith. He immediately jumped to his feet, his face red.

“W-what do you mean?”

“That man, who are they? They were acting, forgive me if this is out of turn, but very romantic towards you. I have never seen him before in my life. Who does he think he is coming up and kissing you like that?” If not for the severity of what he was saying, Karkat could burst out laughing. Instead, he coughed, bring the blacksmith’s attention back.

“ _They_ ,” he emphasized, “Are not just some random person. You know this festival we’re celebrating right now? The one we celebrate every year? The one you’re making a sculpture for? Yeah, you know how this festival is celebrating a specific god?” Karkat could see the sheen of sweat beginning to cover Equius as he started to understand. “Yeah, that was them.”

“Oh.” That was all that came out of Equius’ mouth as he began to sweat heavily. He muttered something about a towel and Karkat patted his back.

“Come on, let’s get you that towel. You’re gonna need it.” Karkat looked back at the crowd, a hand lifting to Gamzee’s sign on his head. They called him their best beloved. They kissed him when they greeted him and then kissed him up his arm before blessing him. _They blessed him._ They actually blessed him. Not just for the year, but for the rest of his life. Karkat followed Equius all the way back to his workshop, a faint blush painting his cheeks.

It was halfway through the festival when the old god found the shepherd again. He leaned against his shepherd’s crook as he watched a group of dancers swirl around in vibrant outfits on the stage. Gamzee saw a faint smile on his sun-tanned face, one that longed to be dancing around like everyone else. Bumping into his legs, two wicker goats kept him company. Gamzee felt their old heart melt at the sight of him. They moved closer to him and watched the dancers. One of the wicker goats bumped into their legs and they bent down to pet the goat.

“Motherfucking beautiful, isn’t it?” Tavros nodded, not turning to the person next to him. The two watched the dancers, Tavros’ gaze never leaving the swirling colors of the cloth while Gamzee lifted their head to the sky. It’d be morning soon and they’d have to leave the village behind. The music began to this soft, emotional piece and Gamzee closed their eyes. The song was a traditional piece played during this night, the longest night of the year. They loved this song with all of their old heart and they began to sway, humming along to the music.

They could feel the life running through the ground, the life from the festival goers as they prayed for the days to lengthen and the sun to warm the earth. They could feel the waiting life within the plants and the trees with their buds preparing to open. They could feel the heartbeats of a million creatures hidden underground, waiting, waiting, waiting for what could seem like a lifetime before the sun returned. They could feel power settling back into their bones and healing what had withered up inside of them. As the music faded, Gamzee could feel Tavros’ eyes on them and they could sense his wonder. Gamzee opened their eyes, a soft smile behind the mask. They revealed themselves bit by bit to the shepherd who stared at them.

“Hello, my love and my light,” they whispered.

“W-what…?” Gamzee froze for an instantly, realizing what had slipped from their mouth. _Oh shit oh shit oh shit, had they never called him that before?_ _Shit, gotta play it cool, gotta play it motherfucking cool._ Before the god could play off their slip of the tongue, Tavros squinted at him.

“Are those, uh, flowers, growing in your hair?” Wide-eyed, Gamzee ran their fingers through their hair and found that there were indeed _flowers_ growing in their hair. They opened their mouth to explain, but they couldn’t find the words and more flowers began to grow in their hair, all the while their mouth opening and closing like some kind of fish. Embarrassed, the god covered their face, forgetting there was a mask covering their face still. As they tried to hide their embarrassment from the shepherd, little pink primroses and forget-me-nots crowded in the mess of black hair.

Tavros was sure there was some kind of nature spirit in front of him, though they seemed a little familiar to him. He was also sure that they were embarrassed by whatever they said and the flowers growing in their hair was actually quite adorable and cute and he started to laugh. Gamzee peeked out through their fingers at the laughing shepherd. Their embarrassment grew, but their shoulders drooped and the flowers in their hair wilted the more he laughed. Great, he had all up and fucked this first meeting up. Way to motherfucking go.

While Tavros was laughing, he wiped at his eyes and… he stopped when he saw the flowers wilting. Realizing that they probably thought he was mocking them, he limped forward and picked a flower from their hair.

“I’m, uh, sorry if I hurt your, feelings, but you were very, cute. I’m sorry that I laughed. And if, you don’t mind the question, uh, who are you, again?”

Gamzee dropped their hands from their face, their heart speeding up from the look on the shepherd’s face. They ran their hand through their hair, laughing a little. Behind them, the first rays of the sun began to peek up from the horizon. When Tavros asked his question, Gamzee dropped their hand, their gaze finding his. Their glamour fell away completely and Tavros looked up at the large horns spiraling up from their head. The paint stayed on their face and they lifted the mask up so he could see their face.

“I am the one who found you when you fell into my land, my beloved. I am the one your fathers and their fathers worshipped and praised. Your line has been faithful to me in the past and so I watch over you all. All things you see green and growing came from my love for you, my beloved.” Gamzee lifted a hand and touched it to their chest. When they pulled it back, a small bundle of forget-me-nots grew around their hand. They motioned for Tavros to cup his hands and when he did, the god rested the forget-me-nots in his hands. In the dead center of the bundle, a bright red tulip bloomed.

“For my love and my light, my sweetest miracle.” The god leaned forward and pressed their lips to Tavros’. All around them, the musicians and the poets and the dancers and the storytellers and all those in the valley lifted their voices to the sky as the new sun’s rays warmed all those who stood waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you didn't catch the symbolism in the flowers Gamzee gives Tavros, forget-me-nots mean true love/memories and red tulips are for declarations of love.


End file.
